


Mine. Now and Always.

by Queenofthebees



Series: A-Z Jonsa Kink Challenge [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (but really cousins obviously), A-Z Jonsa Kinks challenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And that is the twisted thing, Cunnilingus, Dark Jon Snow, Dirty Talk, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Jon spent too long in Ghost, Loss of Virginity, Possessive Behavior, Sansa never married Ramsay, Wolf like nature/quirks, they think they are siblings though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 08:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13498516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: Jon didn’t care one bit about salvation. He didn’t care about saving his soul, if there was even anything left of it. There were no Gods to grant salvation, none that he had seen anyway.“Jon?” Edd’s voice called through the door even though Jon had been able to tell before then from sound and smell alone.And then, he smelt it. He smelt her.His nostrils flared, his head tilting up slightly as the scent hit him again. Beside him, Ghost stirred, mimicking the action. And then a thought crossed simultaneously between them.Sansa.Letter I (Incest) of A-Z Jonsa Kink Challenge.





	Mine. Now and Always.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wightjon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wightjon/gifts), [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



> Can be seen as a sequel to the exhibitionism kink (my personal head canon). Or assume Jon and Sansa had something before the events of canon and then this is now happening.  
> Sansa never married Ramsay in this but fled Petyr and her upcoming marriage to Harry.  
> And going for the whole over-used Jon going dark after being dead and stuck too long in Ghost route. Sue me! :p
> 
> This didn't go as dark and twisted as I originally thought...hooray!...I guess *shrugs* :p  
> Shout out to Lizzy and Amy for the help on how to take this one!

Jon growled softly, eyes fixed upon the door where he could hear the footsteps approaching. His hearing, his sense of smell seemed keener than before, since he came back.

His blood-lust had changed too. Jon had hated killing before, had only done what necessary. Killing was not what he had done to the traitors. No, a simple kill was too kind for them. Not even Ghost would have dragged it on as long as he had. They deserved every scream, he thought darkly.

Davos said he had spent too long in Ghost, there was a savage, beastly part of Jon that he couldn’t control. Davos said he should seek Melisandre’s advice on what to do, that he should write to his friend Sam to find some advice on how to manage it. Before he did something terrible with his new nature.

_“Salvation Jon,” Davos had urged. “You are not the beast, you can be a man still. And you can repent.”_

Jon didn’t care one bit about salvation. He didn’t care about saving his soul, if there was even anything left of it. There were no Gods to grant salvation, none that he had seen anyway.

“Jon?” Edd’s voice called through the door even though Jon had been able to tell before then from sound and smell alone.

And then, he smelt it. He smelt _h_ _er._

His nostrils flared, his head tilting up slightly as the scent hit him again. Beside him, Ghost stirred, mimicking the action. And then a thought crossed simultaneously between them.

_Sansa._

He threw the door open, the wood banging against the wall and startling Edd. He padded quickly along the halls, Ghost by his side and Edd racing after him.

“There is a girl who…”

“My sister. I know,” Jon cut him off, stepping out onto the balcony.

Her back was to him, her auburn hair tied into a neat Northern braid and hanging down her back. His lips twitched with bitter amusement at her grey clothing, thinking if she had come sooner she may have been the girl from Melisandre’s vision rather than Alys Karstark.

She turned, her eyes wide as she saw him, her hands twisting in front of her nervously. Her eyes moved to Ghost, a sad smile coming to her and Jon remembered her own dire wolf, Lady, killed so long ago.

He moved down the steps and she straightened, watching him silently as he approached. He saw the men looking at her and a growl rumbled deep in his chest.

 _Mine_. _She’s mine!_

He opened his arms, allowing her to leap into them and burrow her face into his neck. He gripped her tight to him, his memory recalling how radiant she had looked the last time he set eyes on her, before she was taken South, taken from him.

He set her down and Edd stepped forward. Jon turned, teeth bared in warning and the man stumbled back with wide eyes. Jon stared for another few beats, cast a glance around the gathered men to assess if any other would dare come close. Satisfied, he clasped Sansa’s hand tugging her to his side.

“Come,” he murmured. “Sweet sister.”

***

He watched her sip at the soup he had ordered brought to his chambers, eyes darkening as they followed the line of her throat when she swallowed it down. She glanced at him, her cheeks flushing at the attention.

She had fled The Vale, Petyr’s clutches and the marriage with Harry. She had worried that Petyr would look for her at The Wall but Jon assured her that no letters of the sort had been received.

“Did you think of me?” she asked softly, eyes on the bowl in front of her.

“Every day,” he murmured. Her blush covered her neck now as he moved closer, a finger trailing a path across her wrist where he could feel her heart was pounding. “I thought about you every day, sweet sister.”

She shivered, a small smile threatening to take over. He moved closer still, his lips barely touching her ear as he continued.

“I thought of my sweet sister, my sweet Sansa, with the sweetest cunt.”

“Jon!” she gasped, eyes wide but oh, the heat in them. She remembered those days, he knew. She wanted him as much now as she had back then.

“I should have taken you then,” he growled before he slammed his mouth upon hers, parting her lips with his tongue. She moaned, her hands coming to tangle in his curls as his own grasped at her hips. He pulled back, tugging her into a stand.

He hummed appreciatively as his nose nudged against her neck and along her jaw. She smelt so sweet and beneath that…heat. His eyes closed, his fingers clasping the material of her skirts desperately and his cock twitched as he took another sniff at the crown of her head, feeling her shiver in his arms. She had reacted in such a way when he had called her his sweet sister. His lips curved at the thought.

“Sweet sister,” he murmured teasingly, grinning at the whine that escaped her, her head blindly moving towards his own. “Do you like me calling you that?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her cheeks the prettiest shade of pink. “I never cared that I was your sister then, and I don’t now.”

He pulled her to him once more, hands bunching frantically against her back as his mouth slotted to hers, tongue pushing past her lips to meet hers. He walked blindly backwards towards his bed, his arms around her still, their mouths still joined as he brought her with him. He twisted them around, pushing her down beneath him on the bed.

“Show me,” he whispered as he parted from her, his lips trailing down her neck as his hands grasped her skirts. “Show yourself to me.”

She whimpered, her eyes blinking up at him as he moved back. He watched, tongue tracing his lips as she reached for her skirts, hiking them up. He sat back, eyes fixed on her small clothes as they were revealed, her fingers reaching for the ties and pushing the material away.

“You know what I want to do now?” he murmured as he stared at her cunt.

“Fuck me?” she asked softly, her blue eyes blinking up at him. Jon grinned.

“Aye,” he agreed as he reached out a hand to stroke up her stockings until he can feel the soft skin of her thigh underneath. “I will soon enough, sweet sister. But first, I want to kiss you.”

Her brow furrowed in puzzlement, her breath hitching as he dived under her skirts to press his tongue against her slit.

She keened, hands flying down to his hair as her hips canted up to meet him. He groaned, feeling her grow wet against his assault. He parted her thighs wider, pressing his tongue flat against the nub of pleasure at the top of her sex as she gasped and bucked beneath him.

His hand slid across her stomach, holding her down as he licked at her over and over and over again. Her fingers grasped his curls so tight it was almost painful. But Jon cared little about such things, the need to have her so desperate he won’t stop until he has her in every way he can.

“Jon…Jon!” she cried, thighs tightening around his head, hands slamming him down against her as her hips rolled up and up and up.

“I thought of this all this time,” he told her as he reared up, watching her pant helplessly beneath him.

“You told me you would never touch me,” she replied, the tease just below the surface as she opened her eyes to regard him again. His smile was all teeth.

“Aye, that was before though.”

“Before?”

_Before I realised there are no Gods to judge us. That honour means nothing in this world. Now it matters not how or when I take you. I care not, so long as I take you._

He pulled at her skirts again, at the ties that kept it bound to her. She bit her lip slightly, her trembling hands coming to help him in his task. He pressed kisses to her breasts, tongue running across the curves, lips enclosing around her nipples.

He remembered the rumours about Cersei and Jaime Lannister, the history of Targaryens. Once he would have cared about risking such a babe on her. Now he cares for nothing but her, all of her and everything she can give.

He moaned as he finally sank inside of her, the feeling more overwhelming than he had ever imagined. Ygritte had not been a maid when he had lain with her but he hadn’t cared then. He had been guided by his cock and his need to survive.

Sansa though…the thought of Harry or Petyr having her this way, having her in any way made him growl, his lips nipping her ear playfully as he fought to stay still.

“All mine,” he groaned, his hands stroking through her hair, pushing it from her face as he moved to kiss her again. She hummed softly, tilting her head to expose her throat. An approving sound rumbled in his chest, his teeth nipping across her skin.

“Yours,” she whispered against his lips, her hands stroking across his back and one finally reaching up to curl around his neck. “Your sweet sister.”

“Yes,” he hissed as her hips shifted beneath him, her silent signal. He moved slowly, listening to her gasps and moans for any sign of discomfort. Her eyes opened slightly, her head turning to nuzzle against his own neck. Jon growled, his hand gripping the furs by her head desperately as he tried to control his movements. She was a maid, he reminded himself.

_But soon, soon his sweet sister would be begging for him. One day he will take her like a wolf in heat._

The thought of her in such a position, primal and filthy makes him moan, his movements starting to speed up with the promise in his head – _soon soon soon!_ – the idea of having her with him always was overwhelming to him.

He would kill all those who dare to take her from him again. He will make the Seven Kingdoms bleed if she so wished it. He cares for nothing now, nothing but her.

“Jon,” she moaned as his hand drifted down, fingers moving in fast circles against her nub. “Oh!”

“Peak for me, sweet sister,” he commanded, panting in her ear.

“Ahhh…again?” she mumbled, fingers digging into his skin, her back arching up. Jon bit at the soft flesh of her lobe.

“Your big brother commands it,” he grunted, his lips brushing against her temple.

She had always been obedient and eager to please. And as her cunt fluttered around his cock, he grinned at how she still was such things, still that sweet girl he had craved when he had such a loving, giving heart. He pushed his body up, crooning praises in her ear – _good girl, sweet sister_ \- as he hiked her leg higher, his release rapidly approaching. His movements more and more desperate until, until...

He gasped harshly as his cock pulsed inside of her, filling her with his seed. His last claim of her, he thought darkly.

“Mine,” he mumbled again as he rested his head against hers.

“Yours,” she affirmed, eyes closing in sated pleasure.

He pulled away, his eyes roaming her naked form possessively, dropping to where his seed dried on her thighs, her maiden's blood on his cock. She is bound to him now and he to her.

 _Mated_ the wolf in him corrects gleefully. 

He will not allow them to be parted again. And he will kill all those who would dare to try and take her from him.


End file.
